


You’re the only one (who can do this to me)

by SilverInStars



Series: Omega!Tony [2]
Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Avengers freeform - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Omega Tony Stark, Protective Steve, Protective Tony, Scent Marking, Smitten Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, oblivious stony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:54:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInStars/pseuds/SilverInStars
Summary: Five times they had to pretend, and the one time they didn’t.“You have to mark me.” Tony insists, and Steve freezes for a second. Then he blinks into awareness and lunges for the door, but Tony beats him to it by slamming his hand down on the handle. “I can’t deal with that asshole anymore, Steve. It’ll only take a second. Just a quick swipe of your wrist and you can be on your way.”





	1. Scent.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoop! @Andromeda was awesome enough to help me figure out how to format this fic and suggest 5 times + 1. I hope you guys enjoy ^^

It starts out like this.  
  
They’re at the Ritz and Tony is pulling Steve towards the men’s room, rambling away a mile a minute. He looks a little frazzled with his collar undone and his previously gelled back curls fall into his eyes. Steve follows after him easily enough. He figures that at some point Tony will remember to slow down and explain things clearly. Tony tugs at Steve’s wrist impatiently. He shoves Steve into the men’s room, and then checks all the stalls to make sure they’ve been emptied.  
  
The washrooms are fancy, with Calcutta marble basins and a dim pinkish yellow lighting. Tony shuts the door and then backs Steve against it. His blue eyes gleam eerily as he looks at Steve. His eyebrows are raised, and his lips pressed together. The blue chiffon tie he’s wearing hangs in a loose knot, and Steve can see the bobble of his Adam’s Apple as he steps closer and slams his hands on either side of Steve’s head, caging him in.  
  
Steve raises a brow, and Tony ducks his head and then twists his mouth at Steve.  
  
“This is new.” Steve comments, mildly.  
  
“You have to mark me.” Tony insists, and Steve freezes for a second. Then, he blinks into awareness and lunges for the door, but Tony beats him to it by slamming his hand down on the door handle. “I can’t deal with that asshole anymore, Steve. It’ll only take a second. Just a quick swipe of your wrist and you can be on your way.”  
  
“Tony. You can’t really expect me to do that.” Steve hedges incredulously, raising his hands up in hopes of parrying the tenacious man in front of him.  
  
“Steve,” Tony aggrieves, sounding highly put upon, “If I have to spend another second out there smelling like I’m single and ready to mingle, I am actually going to go crazy and do something like give Clint those arrows he wants that shoot out raspberry yoghurt.”  
  
“Why does Clint want arrows that shoot out Raspberry yoghurt?” Steve questions, tilting his head.  
  
“I don’t know!” Tony tosses his hands up, “it’s Clint.”  
  
Well, that might be explanation enough.  
  
“Tony,” Steve tries again, “I thought you like being ‘available’ at these things.”  
  
“I do,” Tony moaned, “When Tiberius Stone isn’t in attendance.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“Yeah! And god, I didn’t think it would be possible, but he’s gotten more infuriating through the years!” Tony steps away, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “He’s been tagging me around the buffet for the past ten minutes, they have crab canapés, Steve.” Tony whines, pouting up at Steve. “I want my crab canapés.”  
  
Steve has heard the stories of Tiberius Stone. He is not fond of these stories. Maybe that’s why the next words tumble out of his mouth.  
  
“Just a little?”  
  
A sunny smile rises on Tony’s face, lighting up the man’s golden brown features. “Just a little.” He echos.  
  
Steve unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves and rolls them up, “Let it be known that this was not my idea.”  
  
“Yes, yes, I will bear witness to your innocence, Captain.” Tony agrees, genially. He reaches up to part his collar, and Steve halts in his actions.  
  
“You want me to scent your neck glands?” He asks, shrill.  
  
Tony blinks at him, “Of course,” he says. “I have to smell  taken Steve, the wrist glands aren’t enough to deter Ty. It’ll be okay, just a little.”  
  
Steve takes in a shaky breath, yeah maybe scenting isn’t as big a deal anymore, you didn’t have to be engaged or married to the Omega you were scenting, but Steve-  
  
Tony is looking up at him expectantly. His neck is bare, the brown skin looks soft, and his glands are just twin bumps of raised skin at the nook.  Steve reaches out and cups Tony’s cheeks, it settles his wrist glands against the ones on Tony’s neck. If asked later, Steve will not be able to express what that first touch means to him. He can smell it, his and Tony’s scents start to mix like two opposing poles meeting with a snap. Steve swipes his wrists across the glands, and Tony shivers under his palms.  
  
The light in the washroom falls harsh on Steve’s eyes, but he doesn’t dare blink. Tony angles his head back a little, resting them comfortably on Steve’s fingers, giving him better access. Steve licks his dry lips, and then presses his glands to Tony’s once more. Tony’s skin is warm, and Steve can feel the flutter of a heart beat under his thumb. He brushes a caress over it and Tony sighs imperceptibly.  
  
Tony smells like metal, ocean salt, and crushed mint leaves. There are multiple layers of other scents that intermingle with his own, but Steve has spent enough time with Tony to be able to discern his original scent.  
  
Tony’s hair tickles Steve, all the glamor, the press smile, and the work weariness melts out of him as he leans into Steve’s touch. His body is corded with thick muscle and his height almost matches Steve’s own, but Tony has softened in the embrace of Steve’s grip. Steve holds his head gently, he can’t stop himself from rubbing small circles into Tony’s nape.  
  
This, he thinks, is why people believed scent marking an Omega’s neck was a private thing only to be indulged between mates. Tony and Steve are good friends, best friends in fact, Steve thinks. Ever since the entities of Iron Man and Tony Stark became one, Steve feels like Tony’s importance in his life doubled.  
  
There is a lot Steve loves about Tony, his best friend, but looking at Tony’s relaxed and trusting expression as he let Steve mark him, a tender emotion blooms delicately in Steve. He is reluctant to let go, but his own scent, sandalwood and warm, sunlit forest leaves, overlaps perfectly over Tony’s own. So Steve releases Tony and anchors his hands back to his sides.

Tony blinks his eyes open sleepily, “Woah, that was different.”

Steve doesn’t know what he means by ‘different’, different to Tony’s other experiences? different to their friendly wrist marking? But he nods his head and agrees, “Yeah. Different.” Because it was different.

Tony clears his throat, and then steps away from Steve, “Uh thanks, that should help.”

“Great.” Steve nods again. His head feels like it’s going to detach from his body and start floating to the ceiling. He can’t take his eyes off Tony’s neck.

“You really know how to do a guy a solid, Cap.” Tony laughs, and Steve’s lips quirk involuntarily as he smiles dopily at Tony. 

“Yeah” 

Tony’s eyes narrow, and he steps back into Steve’s space. He is very close to Steve now, their faces inches apart. “Damn Steve, you okay? Your pupils are blown.” 

Steve’s cheeks turn pink, “Sorry, ah,” he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, “it’s just, it’s been a while since I did that.” (Or ever) He explains. Tony’s expression clears and he looks a little guilty now. “Oh damn, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” He asks, and his hand has gone to his hip under his jacket, posture betraying his spark of anxiety.

Steve shakes his head firmly, somehow having his scent on Tony is making him a little more perceptible towards Tony’s moods than he usually is. 

“No, I wanted to help out. I’m glad you asked me.” And Steve is. He is glad that Tony trusted him with this. He frowns when he remembers why he had to scent mark Tony in the first place, “Do you want me to keep you company for the rest of the night?” He asks. 

Tony grins at him, and shakes his head, “You hate it when I have to schmooze, and I don’t want to put you through that. I can handle Ty well enough.” 

Steve wants to protest, he can manage a night of talking up the bigwigs if it means Tony will be comfortable. But he doesn’t know how to say this without sounding sappy. “Alright.”

Tony smiles at him. His blue eyes darken with affection, “Thank you, Steve.” He says.

Steve smiles back, and that warm, unknown feeling from earlier returns. Tony fixes his clothes and then moves Steve away from the door with a guiding palm on his hip. The touch burns.

Tony heads out the door. Steve goes to the sink, turns the tap to cold, and splashes a palmful of the water on his face.


	2. Bonded.

The morning after the party, Steve heads over to the diner he and Tony planned to meet at for breakfast. The place is quaint with a warm toned bricking and the regulars are mostly local families.    
  
Steve picks a table somewhere at the back anyway, he doesn’t want to risk being noticed. He soon gets a text on his phone and he fumbles with the display to check it. (Yes Steve has superhuman abilities, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to work these things as well as Tony does.)    
  
_On my way._   
  
Alright, Steve thinks. Then he scans the table and finds the little doodle book the staff keeps for kids. He plucks it out of its holder and flips through it. He likes to see if there’s anything new added whenever he comes here and maybe add a sketch of his own.  It’s not just the little kids who take a gander at the book, there are cute drawings done by teenagers, and various curse words scribbled in by an angry hand as well.    
  
Steve pauses at a particularly well drawn image of a cat curled up in a basket. There’s one ill sharpened pencil in the holder, so Steve digs into his own pocket and pulls out a bit of tissue wrapped charcoal. It doesn’t take him long to start sketching in a bouncing puppy beside the nestled in cat.    
  
A finger tapping gently on the table breaks Steve out of his reverie, and he blinks up, an easy smile blooming on his lips when he takes in Tony’s messy hair and too large sweater. He even has a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. The thick, black frames almost engulf his face.    
  
It’s what he wears when he wants to move around the city incognito. The rules of this universe somehow bending to let him get away with it. He wrinkles his nose at Steve and the glasses shift as he slides into the opposite seat. “Did we have to meet this early?” He grumbles, his voice is rough and it scratches pleasantly at Steve’s ears.    
  
Tony leans over to look at Steve’s drawing, and Steve notes the way his expression softens. “Thought the cat might want company.” Steve explains. Tony smiles at him fondly, his glasses glinting at Steve. He crooks his arms and rests his head on it, “You would think that,” he says, more to himself.    
  
Steve can still smell himself on Tony from the night before. His scent has thinned down a bit, but it’s still present. Tony catches Steve angling his head towards him, and he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “I was supposed to shower in the morning but I ended up oversleeping.” He explains. Not that Steve expected one.    
  
The waitress comes by then, so his reply remains stuck in his throat, she cocks a hip and taps a pen on her notepad, “Good morning. I’m Jenna, what can I get you folks today?”  She asks.    
  
Tony purses his lips, and then orders a simple black coffee with a stack of pancakes. Steve’s order is that and then some. If the waitress thinks Steve might be overdoing it with his order, she doesn’t let it show on her face. With a generic sunny smile and a curt nod, she heads back.    
  
Tony leans back into his chair, draped casually. “So Cap, give me the low down.”    
  
“Maybe I should go in alone this time.” Steve says, predicting Tony’s reaction as his body freezes, and his eyes sharpen with a glare.    
  
“Excuse me?” Tony asks, words dripping with put upon disbelief. He crosses his arms and juts his chin out stubbornly. “No.”    
  
“Okay.” Steve agrees, and has to stifle a snigger when Tony’s hair whips against his forehead as he turns to Steve in surprise.    
  
“I don’t get a token argument?” Tony grumbles.    
  
Jenna is back with their food, and she cracks a smile at Tony’s comment. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” She tells him solemnly. “Things always change after the first year of being bonded.”    
  
Tony’s eyes light up in delight, while Steve turns red as the tablecloth. “Oh,” Tony drawls, his blue eyes full of mischievous implication as they rest on Steve. “I don’t know about that.” He tells the waitress, “I kind of like him being feisty.”    
  
Steve’s ears are warm, but he leans back and quirks a brow at Tony, “I’d say I don’t bite, but...”    
  
It’s Tony’s turn to fluster now, and his hand makes an abrupt gesture towards the gland at the bottom of his neck, covered by his sweater. The gland that Steve would have marked, if they had been bonded like Jenna obviously thought they were.    
  
Tony gives Jenna a ‘this is what I have to deal with’ look and she laughs at the both of them. They chat with her for a bit longer, the ‘couple’s banter’ between them flowing smoothly before she’s pulled back to work by a family stepping into the diner.    
  
Tony grins at him, and his foot nudges Steve’s ankle under the table. “So, Alpha dear, I thought I’d have to put a little more effort into convincing you than that.”    
  
Steve ignores the shudder of pleasure hearing Tony call him Alpha while wearing his scent incites, instead, he looks at the dog he’s drawn, “I trust you Tony.” He says, simply. “This mission is not going to be easy. And you’ll be especially vulnerable.”    
  
“Trafficking, huh. You’re worried about that new pheromone spray.” Tony’s brows are drawn together, they would have both received the same files with the same information. He looks out of the open glass window to their left, and the morning sun draws shadows along his grim expression.    
  
Steve can smell his worry. Tony wears scent blockers on his off days, whenever he’s not trying to kiss up to sponsors. Steve knows he’s developed an entire line of Stark brand blockers. A gentle ointment people only have to rub along their glands for their scents to be muffled.    
  
Steve often helps the R&D department with testing whenever he can. The newest line is pretty good, but they still haven’t developed a formula strong enough to overcome Steve’s senses. So he can still single out Tony’s scent under the layer of ointment (and his own overlapping it).    
  
“I am.” Steve agrees. “But you’ll figure out a way around it.”    
  
Tony continues to look out of the window for a while, his foot tucked around Steve’s ankle. “I will.” He promises.    


They take their time finishing the food, and Steve fails to protect his fries from Tony’s nimble fingers. Tony tells him about his company’s recent projects, and then delves into more abstract concepts. Steve lets the drone of Tony’s animated conversation wash over him. He feels oddly comforted, watching the shadows of Tony’s lashes sweep along his cheeks. He still clearly remembers the soft skin beneath his palms. Tony’s face is familiar to him, but somehow, it falls under a different light today. 

Steve fiddles with the crumbs on his plate, and Tony gives him an odd look. “Is everything alright, Steve?” He asks. 

“Huh-“ is the first brilliant syllable that escapes Steve. He manages to wrangle it back into his mouth, and responds, “Yes, of course.” The words sound awkward, and Steve himself isn’t sure why. 

Tony sighs. It’s fond one, and Steve finds himself relaxing. “You’ve been staring at me like you have something to say.” Tony points out. He’s leaning forward now, chest pressing against the edge of the table as he tries to meet Steve’s avoidant eyes. 

“No, it’s just-“ He starts. 

“Just?” Tony prompts, face open and friendly and just about everything wonderful in the twenty first century. 

“I was wondering if you were still free after this.” Steve blurts out. His face feels hot, and his clenches his palms into fists over his thighs. 

Tony hums at him delightedly, “Oh did you want me to keep you company, Captain?” He sneaks a glance towards the counter and Jenna throws them a quick smile. “Can’t say no to a date with my beloved bonded now, can I?” He teases. Steve nods his head, and then shakes it. He doesn’t trust himself with a verbal reply. 

Tony pulls out a couple of hundreds and leaves it on their table. Then, he stands up, and holds his hand out to Steve, “Well, let’s get going then.” Steve knows that Tony’s only behaving this way because he enjoys a good cover and putting on a show. He takes Tony’s hand, and then lets him guide Steve out the door. Steve turns around just in time to catch Jenna’s wide eyes as she finds the money Tony left her. 

“C’mon Alpha.” Tony grins at Steve once they’ve hit the sidewalk, “Show me a good time.” 

Gathering the remnants of his bearing, Steve raises a brow at Tony, “Only if you promise to be a good boy.” He taunts. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Tony breathes out, voice light with laughter, “I’ll be the best.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay firstly, holy shite you guys are amazing and the first chapter got way more support than I thought it would. I really appreciate that <333 
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter too. Don’t forget to hit the kudos button if you did <3 
> 
> Leave me a comment to let me know if you’d like another chapter ^^. I have to say, writing Stony+abo might be one of my favorite things ever.


	3. Chapter three.

Steve lets the light from the overhead bulb blur his sight as he listens to the soft sounds of Tony moving about in the bathroom. Each little clatter tugs at something fond in his heart. He rolls over on the bed and nuzzles his face into a pillow hoping to wipe what is sure to be a stupid look off it.

“Have you brushed up on your Italian, Steve?” Tony asks him cheerfully through the bathroom door.

“Well enough to order room service." He replies. 

Tony laughs, and Steve grins.

“Are you done?” He prods.

“Just about.” Tony responds.

Steve hums. He picks up a magazine from the side table. There is a picture of the mayor and his wife on the front. They stand close to each other, their bodies naturally drawn to their mate. Steve fingers the picture. He finds himself drifting back to the gala they had attended a month ago, when Steve had scented Tony for the first time.

_Tony had looked so good in his three piece tux, and Steve had been unable to take his eyes off the man after they had both left the men’s room. Tony had flittered back to join all the other social butterflies, and Steve had found his patch of wall to stand in front of and put on his best brooding expression._

_Tiberius Stone. It didn’t take long for Steve to watch him weaving his way through the crowds towards Tony. He watched, as Tony pulled at his collar exposing his glands, and then grinned into his water as Tiberius recoiled away from Tony in shock. Tiberius scoured the crowd until his eyes met with Steve’s. Steve schooled his expression into the best impression of a jealous and disapproving mate he could manage (he didn’t find it a particularly hard thing to do). Tony threw Steve a conspiratorial look and Steve had to smother his answering grin._

_Tiberius, a man smart enough to pick his battles, backed away from Tony, but not before he gave Steve one last disbelieving look that made Steve frown. With Tiberius sulking off however, Steve could turn his attention back to Tony, and Tony was staring directly at Steve, his mouth twitched, and then he tossed his head back and laughed. Heads turned to stare at him, but Steve's eyes were drawn to the arch of Tony's throat. His palms burned with the knowledge of what touching all that smooth skin felt like._

In the present, he hears Tony open the bathroom door and it pulls Steve out of his musing. He turns around, and immediately chokes up.

"Tony!" Steve exclaims.

"What?" Tony tilts his head, guileless. But Steve is not fooled.

"What happened to your beard?" Steve asks him, he sounds strangled.

"Oh that." Tony says, "I thought it would be a good disguise." He rubs his chin self-consciously. "It doesn't look bad, does it?"

"No, it looks fine." Steve hears himself replying. And it does. Look fine. It looks better than fine. Tony's face is smooth and hairless, and Steve-

He reminds himself to breathe. This is so unfair; Steve loves Tony's face, and it's largely because of Tony that Steve finds himself with a newly discovered preference for facial hair. But now, Steve looks at Tony's face miserably, he finds that he doesn't mind the new look at all. He can see the smile lines at the corners of Tony's mouth more clearly, and he finds himself fixating on it.

Tony looks more approachable like this. His pretty smile stands out as he talks casually at Steve, and his cheekbones look softer, Steve remembers cupping them and thinks that he'd like to do it again. It's not like he had never thought about this before the party, but Steve had believed it was just a passing fancy. He finds many people attractive, and Tony is one of them. Tony is his best friend, so it really isn't surprising that he finds the man aesthetically pleasing.

And sure, sometimes Tony gives Steve a coy look and he feels hot under the collar, but that is just the effect Tony has on people, Steve was no exception. He values Tony, and respects him, there is no better friend Steve can ask for after waking up in the modern world.

Tony gave him a home.

So yeah, Steve isn't shy to admit he loves Tony. He also loves plenty of his other fellow avengers. Sure, the way he loves Tony is a little different and he never really felt the need to monopolise his other teammates time the way he does with Tony, but-

Steve shakes his head. What was the point he had been trying to make? Oh yeah, it isn't a big deal that Steve likes Tony. Tony is his best friend. What is problematic however, is that he is starting to wonder what would it be like if he got to date said friend? What would it be like if Tony didn't have to wear Steve's scent just to chase off other Alphas, but wore it because he wanted to? What would it feel like to turn to Tony during a harrowing press conference and reach out and entangle his fingers with the omega's. What would Tony's calloused palms feel like when held in his?

These are thoughts Steve is having now, and they are thoughts he shouldn't be having. Tony is his best friend. Steve doesn't want to ruin that.

Tony flops down on the bed beside him, he's freshly showered and his damp hair curls around his hairline. He looks at Steve and then makes a face, Steve doesn't move even as Tony reaches out and flicks his forehead.

"I can hear you thinking all the way over here." He teases.

"Sorry." Steve mumbles. "Just thinking about tomorrow."

Tony's eyes soften, "It'll be okay Cap. We can do this."

They can. Steve's gone over the mission multiple times in his head. Their target is Omega traffickers who have been using a pheromone spray to induce heat and kidnap omegas under the pretence of aiding them. The mission objective is to find out where the central warehouse is located. It's a risk, but Steve received credible information of its location in Florence, a city bustling with tourists.

Tony will be working undercover as bait. Their Operation shouldn't last longer than a week, and Steve has full authority to extract Tony at the first hint of trouble. Tony is capable of taking care of himself, and Steve trusts him. But Tony lies soft and relaxed beside him now, and Steve worries anyway.

He doesn't voice this however, and just closes his eyes and says "I know."

He feels Tony ruffle his hair.

"You overthink things too much, Cap. Sometimes it's okay to think things might work out as we planned them."

"It's not like you to be optimistic either." Steve says.

"I'm always optimistic." Tony huffs, "My optimism is just watered down by a dose of calculated reality. I run the numbers, and review our success rate." Tony defends.

"So what you're saying is that you get to worry because you know when we're going to fail?" Steve asks, sceptically.

"Just the probability of it." Tony corrects.

"That's comforting." He deadpans.

Even though he cannot see it, Steve pictures Tony's grin with startling clarity. Tony starts to say something else, but a knock at the door interrupts their conversation. Steve's on his feet in a flash. He heads towards the door to check who it is, posture stiff, but Tony stops him.

"Wait." He says, and then runs his fingers through his hair and pulls off his sleep pants so he's only in his boxers and shirt.

Ah yes, Steve remembers. They booked this room as Mr. and Mr. Grant. A newly wed couple who had come to Florence for their honeymoon. Tony's playing his part, and Steve has to play his.

He loosens his shoulders and plasters a genial smile on his face. He still has his guard up, but when he opens the door it's just one of the staff come to deliver their room service. Tony hops off the bed and eagerly walks over to peruse the contents of the trolley.

Steve is glad to shut the door again once the waiter is out of their room.

"Good foresight on ordering room service. This way we get to keep up with our disguise and I can fuel up." Tony says through a mouthful of schiacciata.

Steve shrugs. "I thought you might be hungry."

Tony pats his arm, "Eat, I know you need your ten meals a day or grumpy Steve comes out to play."

Steve doesn't refute him, he piles a plate with food and digs in.

"Do you think that server thought we were having sex?" Tony asks him out of the blue.

Steve raised a brow, "you think ruffling your hair is enough to convince someone we were having sex?"

Tony shrugs, "Doesn't take much to make young minds take a trip right into the gutter these days."

Steve doesn't reply. He finishes his food and sets his plate on top of the trolley. Then, he stands up and looms over Tony who had been sitting on the bed. Tony looks up at Steve,wide-eyed, as Steve takes his plate from his hands and sets it on the trolley over his own. Then, he reaches down and pulls Tony's shirt off in a smooth movement. "Wha-" Tony starts to question him in bewilderment, but Steve steps into the part of his legs, hooks a finger under Tony's chin, and tilts his head up. He drags both of his hands through Tony's hair, messing it up further, and then trails his fingers down along Tony's cheekbones. He makes sure the inside of his wrist presses against every inch of skin he touches, leaving a trail of his scent in its wake. And then he rubs his thumb over Tony's mouth until it reddens. He lets his thumb dip between Tony's lips and then smears the wetness along his plush bottom lip.

"Better." He says, and then angles his head towards the mirror. Tony just looks up at him, dazed and obviously flustered.

Steve turns around and heads to the bathroom. He doesn't look back, but he's pretty sure Tony will asses Steve's work through the lone mirror in the room. Caught off guard or not, Tony is as competitive as he is after all.

Steve makes sure to lock the bathroom door, and then he buries his face into his hands and groans.

He likes Tony. He _likes_ Tony.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for any and all errors. Sorry for the delay in updating as well, life can be sucky. But we are nearing the end!   
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter in the comments <3

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you if you guys like the idea, and don’t forget to hit the kudos button <3 This is gonna be a 90% fluffy fic. This is also written for Lena, who said they loved abo!


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